


One Last Thing Before You Go

by GreenFish



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:23:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenFish/pseuds/GreenFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war in Panem has ended and Katniss attempts to put her life back together in District 12, but just as she feels things are finally coming together, old friends come to pay a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Thing Before You Go

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally inspired by this secret on Tumblr: http://adifferentkindofhunger.tumblr.com/post/15562372696. It turned out slightly differently than I expected, but that’s what happens when you start writing; the stories take on a life of their own. Comments always appreciated!

===

It is late summer. I have been back in District 12 for seven, eight months? It is hard to keep track of time anymore. Ever since I have come back, it has been a struggle to get through each day, though I find it easier as the days go on. Greasy Sae arrives to cook breakfast, plopping down a sack of food on the counter, her granddaughter following close behind. I told her she didn’t need to bring the food anymore; since I was hunting again, I had the ability to procure meat and trade for the rest, but she said she was being paid to keep me in good health, so it was hard to argue.

As she unloads the bag, I see her pull out a thin white envelope and give it to me. 

Mail? I haven’t received any letters since the one my mother wrote me when I first came back to District 12. I wonder who could be writing to me.

As I look at the envelope more closely, I don’t see a return address, but I do see a postmark showing District 2 on it. District 2 … Gale.

My stomach immediately contracts and I practically jump out of my chair as Peeta comes in through the back door, carrying his usual daily stash of baked goods. 

“Morning,” he says, and then looks at me with concern when he sees my expression. “What is it?” he asks, dropping the basket on the table, and sitting next to me. He’s been spending a lot more time at my house in the few months or so, mostly because I decided it was getting boring spending so much time by myself, but also because, if I was truly being honest with myself, I missed being around him.

I shake my head slightly. “Nothing, I just – got a letter.”

He cocks his head and says, “From who?” 

“I don’t know yet. It came from District 2, though, so I have a good guess.”

Peeta nods solemnly but doesn’t respond. He watches more TV than I do, so surely he knows that Gale is in District 2 right now, and regularly appears on a talk show where they discuss the new government and politics. I’ve only seen it once. I had to turn it off after watching for a few minutes because it made my head hurt. I think a part of me still misses him, but sometimes I wonder if it’s just my old life that I miss – the familiarity of the woods and hunting with Gale – the fresh air and easy conversation. Peeta and I talk, but conversations are still difficult – there’s so much I am afraid to talk about, if only because I don’t want the nightmares to become part of my waking hours. Dr. Aurelius says it is good for me to talk about my fears, but I’m still not so sure. Plus, Peeta still has moments where he flashes back to the hijacking in the Capitol and he or I have to leave the room until he is okay again. I worry that bringing up bad memories will just trigger more attacks for him.

Finally, after several minutes have passed, he says, “Are you going to open it?”

He must be as curious as I am. I nod, and open the letter. Sure enough, it is in Gale’s loopy handwriting. The letter is short, less than a page. I read it quickly, digesting the news. I am so lost in my thoughts that Peeta’s voice makes me start again. 

“Is it from Gale?” he asks. I can hear a bit of apprehension in his voice, so I try to keep my voice level as I respond.

“Yeah,” I say. “He says he wants to come out here for a visit. He wants to know how I am –“ I clear my throat, “—how we are.”

“I’m sure,” Peeta scoffs. 

Still no love lost between those two, I think to myself. “Oh, and he says Johanna wants to come visit, too.”

“Johanna?” Peeta asks, raising an eyebrow. I can tell the quick conclusion his mind has drawn, which hasn’t occurred to me until now.

“I guess she’s in District 2 as well,” I say, trying not to sound annoyed, even though I suddenly feel a rush of jealousy coming over me. It reminds me of being in the elevator before the Quarter Quell with a naked Johanna while Peeta talked to her, the light from his costume reflecting off her bare body. I wonder what it is about her that can always make me jealous. I don’t dislike her; especially after we had spent so much time together in District 13 as roommates, but now, well, there’s something about her being around Gale that makes me uneasy. 

Peeta must be able to sense my uneasiness, because he quickly stands and goes over to the counter to slice the rolls he brought. It’s only at this point that Greasy Sae says anything. I had almost forgotten she was there. She asks if I’m going to write back to him. I nod, but wonder what I would say. Should I say we’re doing okay? The fact of the matter is that for a long time I was barely surviving. I suppose it’s good that he waited a while before writing to me. I’m not sure what I would have said to him six months ago. 

 

===

 

Three weeks later, I get a response from him stating that he and Johanna will be arriving in another week. It occurs to me that he probably could have called, but I suppose that he doesn’t know my number. After all, he never had a phone in District 12. It also occurs to me that maybe he felt that writing was easier. I’m not sure what I would have said if he had called me on the phone. I’m not sure what I will say to him when he actually arrives.

When the day comes, I feel nervous and jittery. Greasy Sae arrives earlier in the morning to prepare some extra food in case they arrive early. The train schedules are still unpredictable since the new government has now begun to allow passenger trains between districts, and there is often more demand than supply.

Peeta arrives for breakfast later than usual, looking a little worse for the wear. I wonder if he is feeling okay. He avoids my glances throughout the meal, but I decide not to say anything to him, again worrying if I bring something up that it may trigger a flashback. 

It’s around midday when I hear an unfamiliar noise – the crunch of wheels against gravel and the slam of a car door --? I haven’t heard or seen a car since we were picked up to be brought to the Capitol for the Victory Tour. I glance over at Peeta, who looks up at me from his sketchbook. We have just started up a new book, similar to my family’s plant book, but instead of plants, we are recording people we don’t want to forget. Tributes, family, mentors, victors, friends. Loved ones we have lost but can live on in our memories. He suggested we work on it while we were waiting for Gale and Johanna to arrive. 

As I’m getting up to glance out the front window, there’s a loud knock at the door. 

“Anybody home?” I hear a loud voice call out. Johanna. I hear Gale say something that I can’t understand and slowly make my way to the door. When I finally open the door, I see Gale looking back at me, his face flooded with relief. I wonder what he expected to see.

“Catnip,” he says, immediately pulling me into a hug. “You look good,” he whispers into my hair. I hold him tightly for the good part of a minute, enjoying the familiar warmth of having him in my arms again. I open my eyes, seeing Johanna eyeing me critically.

“Are you gonna hog her all to yourself?” Johanna asks. She holds out her arms as Gale lets me go, and even though I suspect she’s not usually an affectionate person, she hugs me tightly as well. Has she missed me? After the time we spent in District 13 as roommates, we had become something of friends. I hadn’t thought much about her, but to be honest, I hadn’t thought much of anyone in the months since I’ve been home, not even my mother, who I have only spoken to maybe six times since coming back.

I hear Gale make a sound in the back of his throat, and I turn around to see Peeta standing in the doorway to the formal living room, watching us. I realize the last time Gale has probably seen Peeta was in the Capitol, when he was in a lot worse shape. Peeta steps forward quickly once Gale acknowledges him, and holds out his hand. “Gale, glad you could come out to visit,” he says with a smile. 

Count on Peeta to turn on his usual charm, I think. 

“Of course,” Gale says, nodding at him. I can tell he’s still slightly apprehensive but has relaxed since he first spotted Peeta. I wonder if he thinks Peeta and I are together. The thought makes me blush, though I suppose it’s not completely crazy, especially considering that Peeta assumed that Gale was with Johanna.

“C’mere, you,” Johanna says, coming up to hug Peeta as well. Peeta looks over at me curiously, obviously wondering what has inspired Johanna’s sudden friendliness. 

“I never figured you to be a hugger,” Peeta jokes as she lets go. 

She smirks. “My new head doctor says it’s good for me to show affection more – something about human connections, I dunno. I only half listen to him.” She glances over at Gale, who is rolling his eyes. “You got any liquor around here?” she asks, changing the subject. “I could use a drink after driving with him.” She jabs her finger in Gale’s direction.

“Hey, now,” Gale says, but their familiarity makes me bristle. They joke like two people who have spent a lot of time together. I find myself glancing over at Peeta, but he’s not paying attention, already heading into the kitchen and whistling cheerily. 

 

===

 

As we’re sitting in the kitchen over a dusty bottle of fortified apple cider, I glance across at Gale, who I notice, up to this point, has been studiously avoiding my gaze. “So you drive a car now?” I ask.

He shrugs. “When I got my latest job in District 2, they gave me a car to use, so I had to learn how to drive it.” 

“He’s not very good,” Johanna deadpans.

“Yeah, well, you don’t drive at all, so shut it,” Gale shoots back. 

“Must be a pretty nice job, then?” Peeta asks, obviously trying to be polite. He serves out slices of lemon cake that he had made that morning. 

“It’s decent,” Gale says. “I enjoy being involved in discussion about what’s going on in this country – without communication, we’re only going to fall back into the old system, you know? I mean, we could really use someone like Katniss on the show. The new Panem would love to see what’s become of the Mockingjay—“

Peeta quickly looks at me. “I don’t think Katniss would really be interested in something like that…”

Gale’s expression turns hard. “So you’re talking for her, now?”

“No,” I immediately put in. “But he’s right, I like it here.”

“Why?” Gale asks, perplexed. “There’s nothing here. Half the District is gone. Practically no one lives here anymore. What can you do for work?”

I immediately bristle at the comment. “What do I have to do? I know what it takes to survive, and that’s all I need,” I snap. “I hunt, I trade, Peeta bakes for us, what more do you need for me?”

I see Gale’s expression change from anger to hurt and back to anger again. “Us?” he asks. “So you two are together, then?”

“No,” I reply, and regret it as soon as I see Peeta turn away from me. “I mean – he’s –“ I catch on the words. What is Peeta to me? My friend? Companion? Ally? We haven’t exactly gotten back to that place we were at on the beach during the Quarter Quell, but we’re a lot closer than we were a few months ago. I pretty much spend every morning and evening with him. What do you call that? I swallow hard. “He’s the only person I have here.”

I can tell I’ve hit him with that, but instead Gale just says, “What about Haymitch?”

“You mean when he’s not drinking himself to death?” Peeta sniffs. He stands up, bringing his empty plate to the sink. “We don’t see him much.”

I shrug. That’s pretty much the truth. We saw Haymitch out and about a month ago when his liquor supply ran out suddenly, but other than that, he’s been pretty much holed up in his house. If we want to talk to him, we have to go over there, and frankly, it’s not the kind of place you want to spend a lot of time at.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Johanna puts in, pouring herself another drink. I realize she is being uncharacteristically quiet. On the other hand, she has been drinking a lot. I already watched her refill her glass twice. I wonder if the drinking has taken over for the morphling addiction. Is she on her way to becoming another Haymitch?

Gale stands up, too, bringing his plate to the sink. I can tell he’s sort of sizing up Peeta; I’ve seen him do that with prey while we’re hunting. 

“So how are you doing?” Gale asks, leaning up against the counter. Peeta frowns, looking over at Gale. 

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, the last time we were all together, you tried to kill Katniss and threw another guy into a pod. You were practically foaming at the mouth and begging for us to kill you. What do you think I’m asking?”

At this point, I stand up, too. I wonder how much Gale has had to drink. I hear Johanna snicker from behind me and I know she has to be drunk at this point.

“He’s a lot better, Gale,” I say, feeling offended. I move over by Peeta, my hand resting on his shoulder protectively. “I mean, we don’t know if the memories will ever completely go away, but…”

“I try and leave if I’m having a flashback,” Peeta explains, “but they’re not as common anymore. Dr. Aurelius has been a big help, and I’m taking medication every day to control myself.”

“Medication?” I ask. This is the first I’ve heard of this. Peeta has not been telling me everything that’s going on, obviously. 

“It’s what he calls a serotonin reuptake inhibitor; it helps maintain the proper level of serotonin in my brain so I have a better grasp on my emotions and can therefore control myself if a flashback comes on. But as it is, the flashbacks have been more and more rare lately.” He shrugs, looking at the ground. 

“There haven’t been any … close calls, have there?” Gale asks.

“You mean have I tried to hurt Katniss?” Peeta asks, staring right at Gale. “The answer to that is no. I leave before the bad thoughts can happen.”

“But you still have them,” Gale says, staring levelly back at Peeta.

This information is kind of chilling. I hadn’t really considered the fact that Peeta probably still has mutt-thoughts about me, and perhaps there is a part of him that maybe still wants to kill me? I wonder what would happen if he went off his medication? I feel my hand sliding off his back, a sick feeling coming into my stomach. To distract myself, I start making a pot of tea.

“Yes, but Dr. Aurelius said that as long as I keep reminding myself what’s real and what’s not, that the flashbacks and triggers will probably affect me less as time goes on.”

“Probably,” Gale says.

“Yes, probably,” Peeta responds. I can hear him getting agitated. “Mental health isn’t exactly an exact science. Especially when you’ve been through everything that Katniss and I have.” I see him glance over at me and then at Gale. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some things I have to take care of at my house.” He manages a half-hearted wave at Johanna, who eagerly waves back. 

“See you soon?” she asks, too loudly.

“Yeah, maybe,” Peeta mumbles.

“Will you be back for dinner?” I ask as he’s almost out the door. 

“I don’t know. I should probably check on Haymitch and make sure he’s still alive and eating,” he says. “So, probably not.”

Peeta has come to dinner every single night for the past two months. Now I know he’s upset. “Well,” I say, running to grab the door handle before it closes, “at least come back for breakfast tomorrow, okay?” And without thinking, I stand up on my tiptoes and kiss him on the cheek, quickly. 

“Okay,” I hear him sigh, as he looks at me for a long moment. I know it’s impossible for him to say no to me. And maybe it’s unfair to ask, especially considering all the tension between him and Gale, but honestly, I feel like Gale is going to have to get used to it. Peeta is a part of my life here. 

After Peeta leaves, I shut the door hard and sit down at the table, pouring myself another drink. “What is wrong with you?” I ask Gale, who has come to sit back down as well.

“What’s wrong with me?” he asks. “What’s wrong with you? You know he’ll never be completely right in the head. He tried to kill you, Katniss. Twice. He asked us to kill him because he knew he wasn’t right in the head. Why would you put yourself in danger like this here? There’s no one to protect you. You said it yourself, Haymitch might as well not be here and you’re – you’re all alone here in the village. I mean, what if he went crazy again? You never know!”

“I do know,” I say, leaning across the table. I can already feel the buzz from the half glass I’ve drank. “I know him better than anyone, and I can tell the difference. He’s changed, Gale.”

“Yeah, because he’s on medicine – but what happens if he runs out? The country’s still rebuilding, so supplies and shipments are still sporadic. You of all people know that, living out here in the middle of nowhere. You should be somewhere with more people around you, where you can be safe.”

I stand up quickly, fueled by anger. “I don’t need to be protected, Gale! I have protected people all my life. I have lived everyone else’s agenda all my life! For once, I want to do what I want to do, and what I want to do is be here!”

“With Peeta,” Gale adds quietly.

“He came back here,” I say. After a long pause I add, “And you didn’t.”

Before he can respond to that, I quickly run up to my room and lock the door, flinging myself on the bed as the tears overwhelm me. Why did I think that seeing Gale would be better? It just hurts. Did I think it would be just like old times – that we’d go in the woods and hunt some game, and joke like we used to? Those days are over. He’s a different person now and so am I. Perhaps Peeta is the one I need. I said it, after all; he was the one that came back, not Gale. But is that my only criteria for choosing a mate? I let the tears flow freely until I’m too tired to cry anymore, and I pass out on my bed.

 

===

 

It’s early evening when I wake up and I smell the scent of frying meat coming from downstairs. Greasy Sae must have arrived to make dinner. I hear the sound of friendly chatter as I come downstairs, and see Johanna sitting around the table with a freshly opened bottle of wine. She must have brought it with her, I think, because I didn’t have any other liquor in the house. 

“The dead has arisen!” Johanna says, standing up and holding up her glass to me.

I force a smile in her direction, and sit at the end of the table, glancing over at Greasy Sae, who is pulling a tray of vegetables from the oven. Gale, to my surprise, is at the stove, frying what smells like duck meat? I wonder if he stepped out to go hunt while I was sleeping. 

“Feeling better?” he asks wryly. I’m still not ready to forgive him, though, so I only grunt, and get up to get a glass. I slide it over to Johanna, who happily obliges in pouring me some wine.

A part of me wishes Peeta was here so Gale could see how he’s doing better; how normal we’ve become, but another part of me is glad to have Gale to myself – well, sort of. Johanna’s presence makes it hard to have a private conversation with him, but I decide that at some point, we need to talk about things. We haven’t really talked since I saw him in the Capitol, after the bombing. 

Fortunately, after dinner, that opportunity comes up. Johanna has passed out on the couch in front of the television, groaning and rubbing her stomach, and Gale and I have taken up the task of washing the dishes together. It’s not until we’re almost finished that either of us speaks.

“So…” Gale starts.

“I think we need to talk,” I say. 

“About what I said earlier?” he asks, knitting his brows.

“Yes, I mean – yes, that, and other things. I want you to understand why I’m here.”

He hands me the last dish to dry, and after I put it away, he nods at the hallway. “Why don’t we go in the other room, then?”

I lead him into the formal living room in the front of the house. My stomach clenches as I look at the table and see Peeta’s sketchbook and drawing supplies still sitting out. The book, still in progress, is unbound, pages spread out across the table and couch. Quickly, I pick them up, putting them into a pile on a side table. 

“What’s that?” he asks.

“Oh,” I say. “Just a project I’ve been working on, with Peeta.”

Gale’s eyebrows raise, but I can tell he’s trying to be polite. “Therapy?” he asks.

I frown. “Sort of,” I say. “It’s a memory book, of people we’ve lost. Tributes, from the games, people from District 12 and 13. People we met along the way. People we don’t ever want to forget.”

“Oh,” Gale says. He glances over at the table. Sitting on top is a drawing of Mags, the mentor and tribute from District 4, stringing up a fishing hook. “People who saved your lives?” he asks.

“Some of them,” I say. “Some are people we cared about. Our families and friends. We’ve lost a lot.”

“Yes, about that,” Gale says, gesturing for me to sit down. He takes my hand. “Listen, I know I’ve told you this before, but – I just want you to know, whatever part I may or may not have had in Prim’s death – you know I can never forgive myself for that.”

“I know,” I say. 

Because I do know. If it had been me, I would never forgive myself, either. On my worst nights, I have dreams about Gale releasing the bombs himself, even though I know it really wasn’t his fault. Not directly, if at all. 

“I only want you to be happy, Katniss,” he says, stroking my fingers with his other hand. “And, you know, be safe. That’s why I got so upset earlier, about Peeta.”

“I know,” I say again, and suddenly, I can’t be mad at him anymore. I realize how much I’ve missed Gale, how much I need his familiarity, his warmth, him. And before I can stop myself, I’m wrapping my arms around his neck, climbing into his lap, and holding him tightly. 

“Catnip,” he whispers into my hair. “I miss you so much … all the time. Every day.”

I feel tears coming into my eyes. I miss him, too, but I don’t want to say it. “You … have Johanna,” I manage to get out.

“She’s not you,” he says, and pulls back, looking into my eyes. And I know he’s going to do it, but I’m still surprised when his lips touch mine, his still-calloused hands stroking the side of my face. I’m surprised at how much I want it, and I find myself pressing back into him, my mouth opening for his tongue as it touches mine. 

I hear him groan slightly into my mouth and my stomach jumps. I’ve never felt this way kissing Gale before. We’ve only kissed twice, but it never felt like a need. The first time was a surprise, and the second felt more like an obligation, brought out of guilt. This feels like longing, and pain, and desire, and—

“Well, well, well. Look who’s getting the party started without me.” I hear a slurring voice from behind us, and I immediately jump off Gale, practically falling on the ground. His hand catches me before I can, though. 

We both stand up quickly to see Johanna leaning in the doorway of the living room with a half-smile on her face. 

“Johanna, I—“ I start to talk, but she holds her finger up to stop me.

“I didn’t say to stop,” she says, coming over behind me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. Before I know what’s happening, her tongue is gently brushing along the side of my ear, my jaw, and my neck. 

I am completely dumbfounded. This was not the reaction I immediately expected, but given a second to consider, I guess I’m not completely surprised, either. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s drunk that she doesn’t care, or if she really wouldn’t care, regardless.

“Johanna, I’m not sure if Katniss really wants to do this…” Gale starts.

Something about the way Gale says this annoys me. It reminds me of when he accused Peeta of speaking for me earlier. Johanna has stepped back, but the way she’s eyeing me tells me that she isn’t happy about it, either. 

“How do you know what I want?” I say, my eyes flashing at him. And as if calling him on his bluff, I turn around towards Johanna and kiss her square on the mouth. At first, she seems surprised, but she responds quickly, pushing her tongue roughly into mine. She is drunk and sloppy, and I can taste the wine on her tongue, but there’s something about the way her hands snake over my bottom, down my thighs, then up my back… 

Gale is watching us, his lips moving, but no words coming out. 

Johanna takes my hand, leading me out of the room; and down the hall into the guest bedroom, the room that used to belong to my mother when she lived here. I am letting her lead me along, but I’m not really sure why. It’s not until she calls out to Gale, “You comin’, or what?” that I fully realize what is happening.

“I … don’t –“ I start to say, but Johanna shuts me up with another kiss. Even drunk, she has a way with her tongue that makes my stomach flutter and jump at the same time. I wonder if this is what you’re supposed to feel when you kiss someone. I wonder how many people she’s kissed like this.

Gale comes up to the doorway of the bedroom, leaning up against the frame and watching us tentatively. He’s got a strange look on his face that I’ve never seen before. His cheeks appear flushed – is he blushing? I wonder. That thought actually makes me giggle out loud, which Johanna takes as an invitation to nip at my neck, which in turn makes me giggle more. I continue watching Gale, who is now staring at me intensely. That strange feeling in my belly comes back again. 

I nod at him, just slightly, and it’s all the invitation that he needs to come forward. He steps up behind me, and I feel his arousal pressing against my lower back, which makes me groan lightly. Johanna smirks, and steps back to take off her shirt. As she’s getting undressed, Gale wraps his arms around my stomach, his hot breath brushing against my neck. He plants gentle kisses along my jawline and cheek, his teeth tugging gently at my earlobe. I close my eyes, breathing in his familiar scent – even though he no longer smells like the woods, he still smells like Gale. 

When I open my eyes again, Johanna is completely naked. She licks her lips, and starts to pull down my pants. I breathe in sharply, unsure if I should be letting her do this. What am I doing? Am I really going to go through with this? Is this crazy? I feel a strange ache in my chest, and a sudden rush of cool air as Johanna pulls my underwear down as well. I hear her chuckle as her fingers sneak up the inside of my thigh.

I want to ask why she’s laughing, but there’s no time as I breathe in sharply, her fingers splaying out and stroking, gently, and – oh. 

She chuckles again, low and throaty, her tongue stroking my stomach. I feel Gale pressed up against me again, his breath becoming shorter, quicker. He breathes hard against my neck.

“Wow. You are so wet, Katniss,” Johanna mumbles into my stomach. I can feel her smiling against my skin.

Something about the way she says this makes me feel embarrassed and aroused at the same time. I don’t know how to respond to this, so I lean my head back against Gale’s shoulder. He opens his mouth over my exposed neck, moaning lightly against me. “Oh, Catnip,” he whispers. His hand reaches around and under my blouse and undershirt, his fingers splaying out over my breast. As he squeezes lightly, I groan loudly, my chest feeling tight, my head floating like it’s suddenly become detached from my body.

My breath comes out in short gasps as Gale groans, too, pressing up against me more. He seems harder than before; I can feel him through his pants. I feel my hips moving involuntarily against him, and Johanna pushes two fingers into me, which suddenly makes me gasp. I can feel the stickiness of my arousal against my inner thighs as she moves in and out, in and out, so quickly – spots are appearing before my eyes – is this what sex feels like?

It’s overwhelming and intense and –

“Katniss,” Gale whispers. “I need – can I … I want to be in you…”

I’m still breathless from Johanna’s fingers, and I gesture to both of them that I need to sit down on the bed. My knees are weak and I feel like I could pass out. Johanna jumps onto the bed, laying out beside me, using her fingers to lazily play with herself. I can’t shake the dizzy feeling that’s taking over my head. 

“I … just give me a minute,” I say, laying out on my back and staring at the ceiling. 

I glance over to see Gale staring at me, still fully dressed. He licks his lips, then bites them, and I can tell it’s taking everything he has to be restrained in this moment. His fists open and close as he continues to watch me. I breathe out slowly, letting my sight come back fully, the spots before my eyes receding. I consider for a long moment before it comes out. “OK,” I say.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, closing my eyes for a second, shivering as a chill comes over me. I wonder what I’m doing as I hear the sound of his zipper being undone, his pants falling to the floor, his shirt being pulled over his head. It’s not until he’s climbing on top of me that I force myself to open my eyes, and see his eyes staring back at me. The intensity in them is almost overwhelming – his grey eyes practically black as his pupils have completely dilated. I feel a small fear coming into me, and I wonder if I’m making the right decision, until he pushes into me. It’s slow at first, and I feel a sharp pain as he goes deeper, and cry out. He stops, concerned, but when I nod my head to say that it’s all right, he continues, slowly still, until he is all the way in. And then he starts moving and – oh. Oh. 

The feeling is not completely unlike Johanna’s fingers except that it’s so much more full and deep, and just – amazing. And I find myself groaning, loudly, so loud, that it doesn’t even sound like me, but it’s so nice, the feeling is so, so good, and thinking about the fact that it’s Gale, and that I’d given up on ever experiencing this, and now here I am, and it’s just –

“I think she likes it,” I hear Johanna chuckle next to me, and it brings me out of my reverie. She is rubbing herself hard now, one hand on her breast, the other down below, a rich flush on her cheeks. 

I suddenly feel embarrassed, but then Gale is grunting loudly and moving faster and faster, almost hurting me as his hips push against mine, and then he sighs loudly, shuddering; slowing down. I wonder if this means he is done. He looks at me then, almost shyly. 

“You OK?” he asks as he pulls out of me. 

I nod, unable to say anything. Truthfully, I’m not sure if I am. I sigh loudly and tell them that I need to get cleaned up. And before they can say anything else, I grab my clothes off the floor and run upstairs to my bathroom, locking the door. I sit in the shower until the water turns cold. 

 

===

 

When I wake up the next morning, I hear the rustle of movement downstairs, and smell food being cooked. I feel tired and unwilling to get up. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to say to Gale, or Johanna, for that matter. What do you say after something like that? Thanks for the sex, sorry I can’t be with you? I wonder how, if anything, this changes my relationship with Gale. I wonder if he’ll ask me to move again. Would I even want to do that? Does what happened the night before change us?

I suppose it does in some ways, but is it enough to make me reconsider things? And what about Johanna? If she and Gale are involved in a relationship, it’s not like I can just break that up. 

Then, of course, there’s Peeta. I almost feel ashamed that he hadn’t even come into my thoughts yesterday. I try to put him into my shoes, and can’t imagine him doing what I had done, not even after the hijacking. He may have hated me for a while, but I doubt he would have ever gone this far.

Suddenly, I remember that I invited Peeta over for breakfast, and I spring out of bed, hoping that he hasn’t arrived yet. I don’t really know what I’m going to say to him. Will Gale or Johanna let anything slip? 

I throw on the first dress I can find, not even bothering with underwear, as I race downstairs. Of course, as soon as I get to the kitchen, I see three sets of eyes looking at me. Greasy Sae must have finished up and left already. I see plates of eggs, sausage and potatoes laid out. I also notice a basket of croissants, which Peeta has presumably brought over. 

Peeta mostly looks concerned as he eyes me, probably at the wild way in which I ran into the kitchen, while Gale is ignoring me studiously and Johanna is trying not to laugh. “Is everything all right?” Peeta asks as I slide into the chair next to him. 

My breath still heavy, I force myself to calm down. “Oh, yeah,” I say, quickly grabbing a croissant and biting into it. Flaky pieces of pastry stick to my lips. “I just … slept a little late, sorry.”

“Hm,” he replies, stabbing a piece of sausage. Something about the motion of it makes me shudder. 

“We were up late yesterday,” Johanna says with a snort. “Ow!” she protests as Gale jabs her in the side. “I mean, I had Katniss playing some District 6 drinking games with me, so…”

Peeta smirks at me. “You know you don’t hold your liquor so well.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Gale says, glancing over at Peeta. 

I know what they’re referring to: the day when I found out about the Quarter Quell. After getting over the initial shock of the announcement, I’d ended up at Haymitch’s, drinking his white liquor to the point where I passed out on the front step coming in. It was true; I was not a glamorous drunk. That being said, my actions last night could not be blamed on alcohol. But for some reason, Johanna and Gale are covering for me as though it was.

I wonder why. Instead of questioning it, I decide to change the subject. “So how much longer are you both planning on staying?” I ask Gale.

“Not much,” Gale says. “I thought I might take a tour around the District today, see how the rebuilding effort is going. We planning on stopping back over in six for a couple days before we got back, so we’ll probably end up leaving sometime tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Peeta asks. “Seems like a long way to come for such a short stay.”

I wonder if he suspects that something is up. I expected them to stay a little longer as well, but honestly, I’m glad they’re leaving so soon. Perhaps this means Gale is not planning on asking me to come with him. Somehow, that makes me feel relieved.

“I didn’t have a lot of time to get away, but I felt it was important to come see … you both, in person,” Gale explains.

I notice he hesitates before saying “you both”; I assume he says that for Peeta’s benefit.

Peeta clears his throat. Obviously, their argument from yesterday has not left his mind. “I see. Well, I know we’re both glad to see you and Johanna are doing so well.” 

“As well as we ever will,” Johanna puts in, her mouth full of food. 

That much I know is true. We will never be completely whole, not after everything we’ve been through. The best we can say is that we have survived, regardless of the mistakes we’ve made along the way. I lower my head, trying to figure out if I will ever be able to tell Peeta about what happened between Gale, Johanna and me. Would he ever forgive me? Would I end up completely alone here in 12? Would he go away, too, or just never talk to me again? 

“I can walk you to town later,” I say to Gale, figuring this will give me the opportunity to have a few final words with him before they leave for good. 

“Maybe we could hunt something for dinner while we’re out,” he says, looking up at me with a smile. 

I see a dark look pass over Peeta’s face, and he excuses himself quickly, heading out the back door, letting it slam behind him. 

“What’s that all about?” Gale asks, standing up to glance out the window, but Peeta has already taken off, probably back toward his house. I wonder if he will come back again later today. I decide not to push it. Perhaps it’s better if he stays away until Gale and Johanna leave. I feel the guilt rising in my throat again, and I push it down.

“Nothing,” I say, gathering up the empty plates from the table. 

“He going off on one of his fits again?” Gale asks, frowning.

“I don’t know!” I burst out. “But whatever it is, you’re certainly not helping.” I shove the last couple dishes into the sink, not caring if they break, and storm out of the kitchen. 

“Katniss, I’m sorry –“ Gale says, coming after me. He stops me at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m not trying to be a jerk. I know you -- care about him, but, well, like I said before, I just worry about you.”

“Yeah,” I say quietly, looking at the floor. “Well. We’ll head into town in a little bit. Let me just get cleaned up. OK?”

He nods and lets me go.

 

===

 

The walk towards town is quiet, neither of us saying anything. Finally, as we’re at the edge of what used to be the town square, Gale sighs and says, “I just want to ask once more, and then I promise I won’t ask again.”

I glance over at him, knowing what he is going to say, but let him have his piece.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come to District 2 with us?”

“You and Johanna? No.”

“What if it was just me?”

“No,” I say, without hesitation. “My home is here.” I gesture around the burned out buildings; carts filled with rubble. “Even with this mess, 12 will always be home to me.”

Gale frowns, and then takes my hand. “You know I’ll never forget us … what happened.”

“I know,” I say. I won’t forget it either; but I wonder if I am already regretting it. 

Maybe Gale is right, though. Perhaps I should leave 12. After all, Peeta won’t want to forgive me after what I’ve done. 

On the other hand, if Peeta stops talking to me, I probably deserve to be alone, after everything I’ve done, all those who have died or gotten hurt because of my actions. This is just another piece in the tower of destruction that I’ve been building. 

“I wish it could have been just you and me, last night,” he admits.

“I know,” I say again, and I know he means it. Nothing against Johanna, but she just happened to be in the middle of it all. And she is just as damaged as the rest of us. A part of me resents that, and another part of me can’t blame her. Even if it had been just Gale, I’m sure I would still be feeling regret. Adding Johanna just made it that much more awkward.

“So,” Gale says. “That’s it, then?’

“Yeah. I think so.” We stand in front of the square, surveying what remains of what once was. After a long silence, I decide to speak up again. “Johanna needs you, you know.”

“She needs someone. Not necessarily me.”

“Maybe not,” I say, “but you’re good for her. She needs your strength.” I let go of Gale’s hand, rubbing my fingertips together. “Just like I need Peeta’s loyalty. And calm.”

Gale nods, not looking at me. “Are you going to tell him?” he asks.

“I think I’ll have to. If I can’t be honest with him, who can I be honest with?”

“Do you want to do it while I’m here? You know, in case…” He trails off.

“In case he goes mutt?” I ask with a grim smile. “No. This is something I need to do and face on my own.”

“Well. Whatever happens, be careful.” He touches my arm gently. “Maybe keep Haymitch on hand, or something.”

I laugh, a short bark. “A lot of good that would do. He’d probably just collapse on Peeta in a drunken heap!”

Gale laughs, too. “Or maybe overpower him with his alcoholic fumes.”

It feels good to laugh, considering the situation. I sigh and pat him on the shoulder. “Want to see who made it back here from 13?” I ask. He nods, so we continue our tour through District 12.

 

===

 

When we get back to the house with a bag full of game, dressed and ready for dinner, I am surprised to see Peeta and Johanna sitting at the table, playing some game with a set of dice. I’m not sure what it is; I’ve never played it with him before, but they are laughing when we come in, and Johanna slaps Peeta’s hand as Gale sets the game bag on the counter. 

“Fake!” she shouts out, causing both Gale and I to look over at them with a quizzical expression.

Peeta grins at me. Obviously, they’ve been at this for a bit. “It’s a game where you have to guess whether someone is lying about what they have in their hand. You say ‘fake’ or ‘real,’ depending on whether you think they’re lying.”

“Huh,” I say, resisting my instant urge to suggest that it should be “real” or “not real,” knowing that might be a sensitive topic for him still. As it is, I’m surprised he hasn’t already made the connection. Or maybe he did, and it didn’t trigger him. I swallow hard, not looking over at the table as I go to start chopping up the meat we caught for dinner. I suspect Greasy Sae will be here any minute to start cooking. 

“And no,” I hear Peeta say to Johanna. “Real!” 

She groans loudly and I hear Gale sit down in one of the chairs, the legs scraping against the wood floor as he sits down. “Whose game is this, anyway?” he asks as Johanna shakes the dice in her hand.

“Oh, it’s mine,” Johanna says, slapping her hand down on the table. “It’s another District 6 drinking game – but since Peeta’s a loser and didn’t want to drink with me –“ I imagine she is making a face at him, because I hear him put up a protest, “- we’ve just been playing it as a regular game. It’s not as much fun if someone isn’t getting drunk, though.”

“Maybe you need to play that with Haymitch,” I suggest, throwing chunks of meat into a stew pot.

“Ha! That’s what I said!” Peeta exclaims, as Johanna shouts, 

“Three sixes!”

“Fake,” Gale puts in. “I can tell when she’s lying.”

“No fair, you’re not allowed to play,” Johanna says, and as I peek under the cabinet, I see her slugging Gale in the arm, which makes me smirk. She definitely has the spark Gale needs, I think. Even if it still makes me feel weird watching them together. 

“Well, if it means anything, I was gonna say the same thing,” Peeta says, and he forces her hand open to reveal the truth – there are no sixes. I see him level his eyes at her. “You’re a horrible liar, you know. I have no idea how you convinced everyone during your Hunger Games.”

She guffaws loudly, unfazed. “I’m certainly not worse than the Mockingjay here,” she says, gesturing at me. 

I’ve finished with the meat, and come around to the table, my hands on my hips. “Excuse me?”

“I gotta go with Johanna,” Peeta says, grinning at me again. “You have never been a great liar.”

“OK,” I say in a challenging tone. “What about that time in the cave, in the first Games, with the sugar berries? And, um …” I start thinking about the beginning of our fake relationship; all the kisses and touches, how I’d had Peeta convinced I loved him after the first Hunger Games, but I trail off, knowing that I can’t possibly bring that up. Not now. 

It’s too late, though. I see Peeta’s face start to darken again, so I quickly run over to the cabinet to grab some glasses. 

“Who needs a drink?” I ask in the lightest tone I can manage.

“You know I do,” Johanna says, chuckling, but I’m not watching her. I’m watching Peeta, whose hands have suddenly started gripping the bottom of his chair. I see his Adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallows repeatedly. Gale is watching him as well, ready to pounce, if need be. 

Luckily, at that moment, Greasy Sae comes through the front door, breaking up the tension. She greets everyone cheerily, and I use the moment to announce that I’m going to head over to Haymitch’s to see if I can procure a bottle of liquor.

 

===

 

I walk through Haymitch’s door without knocking, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when I see him sitting at his table in a stained undershirt and underwear, no pants to be found. He also has a hunk of cheese which he is shaving mold off of with his knife before cutting off pieces to eat. 

“Dinner?” I ask, as I sit down across from him, but not before glancing on the seat to make sure it’s clean. Sure enough, I have to shove a pair of socks to the ground before I can sit. Gross.

He shrugs. “Close enough.” He takes a long slug of white liquor out of a bottle before leaning back and eyeing me up and down. “So. What brings you here? Your old boyfriend finally leave town?”

I feel my cheeks heating up. I should have known coming here was a mistake. “OK,” I say. “First of all, Gale was never my boyfriend, we just…”

“You just made out a couple times? Sure, whatever, I won’t tell you what to do,” Haymitch sneers, cutting off another chunk of cheese. He holds it out to me, but I shake my head vigorously.

“Anyway, the reason I came over was to see if I could, you know, buy a bottle of liquor off of you. I’ll make sure to bring over some extra the next time I see Ripper.”

“She said the train should be coming in next week,” Haymitch says, considering. I’m sure he’s trying to figure if a bottle is going to make the difference between now and his next shipment.

I swallow hard and before I can stop myself, it comes out in a rush. “I slept with Gale and Johanna.” 

This makes him immediately spit out his drink, spraying both me and the table. “What?” he says, sitting up straight. “Fuck. You had sex with them?”

I frown at him, letting him know that I am serious. 

“Oh hell,” he says. “You’re not lying.”

I shake my head.

“Shit.” I see him reach under the table, and pull out a bottle from a box. He slides it across to me, and I have to scramble to catch it before it falls. “You’re obviously going to need this,” he says to me with a dark smirk.

“I hate you,” I say.

“I’m not the one who slept with two other victors … at once?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. I immediately look down at my hands, so when he whistles low and slow, I can only assume he makes the connection. “Damn,” he says. “Wow.”

“It’s not good,” I answer.

“Does the boy know?” I shake my head, quickly. Haymitch nods. “Probably just as well. I know he’s come over here a few times, worried about this and that, usually having to do with you. Asking me questions about what’s real and not, you know. He’s still recovering. Probably always will be.”

“I feel like he needs to know,” I sigh. I crack open the bottle of liquor, taking a long slug out of it. It burns going down, and I know, like before, I’ll regret it in the morning, but all I want right now is the sweet release it brings. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Haymitch says. “Depends on where you’re going with this.”

“With what?” I ask.

For a second, Haymitch just looks at me. “With you, and him. Do you see yourself having a future with him?”

“Peeta?” I ask. Haymitch sighs loudly and raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say, of course. I pause a long moment before answering. “Yes. I mean, I guess I just don’t know who else there could ever be.”

“There’s always nobody,” Haymitch says. “The less people you attach yourself to, the less chance you have of hurting them. Or losing them.”

There’s truth in that. But I know, after Gale and Johanna are gone, and we go back to our usual lives, I will want Peeta to be in it. I want to see him every day. I want to spend time with him, and tell him things, and listen to what he has to say, and eventually, hopefully, feel his body pressed up against mine, helping me sleep again at night, providing me with the comfort I so desperately need. 

“I don’t think I could live without him,” I admit. 

“Then you probably need to decide if telling him is going to make or break that for you. Or him.” Haymitch belches loudly then, causing me to make a face at him. I stand up. 

“Well, thanks for nothing,” I say, grabbing the bottle.

“You could at least say thanks for the liquor!” he shouts as I head towards the front door. 

“Yes, that,” I shout back, as I slam the door behind him. 

Some help from my “mentor,” I think. I feel more confused than ever. I know in my heart the right thing to do is tell Peeta, but my mind tells me that if I do, he’ll just leave me, and I don’t know if I can handle that right now. I do not want to lose the boy again.

 

===

 

I sleep late the next day, feeling sick to my stomach and sorry for myself. When I finally manage to rouse myself and get dressed, I see Gale loading their bags up into his car. It’s the first chance I’ve really had to look at it, and I’m already overwhelmed by all the buttons and levers in the front. I wonder how people can so easily grasp technical things. It took me almost a week before I was able to make the buttons on the Capitol showers work for me, let alone learn how to drive a car!

“You like it?” Gale asks as he closes up the back. I am staring at the plush leather seats, and suddenly, I’m transported back to my first Hunger Games, the first car ride I ever took, and I feel a shudder go through me. 

“Uh, yeah,” I say quickly, shutting the car door. Gale gives me an odd look.

“What?” he asks. I shake my head. He frowns. “You don’t … feel weird now that I’ve taken on this new life, do you? You know, with the car, living in another district, being on TV…”

“No,” I say absently. “That’s not it.” I remember the short car ride to the train station before the Games, trying not to look over at Peeta’s tear-stained face, trying desperately to hold it together, while I was trying to figure out my strategy; find a way to survive. 

“What then?” he asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“It just reminded me of something else,” I say, gesturing towards the house. I am standing out on the front lawn in my bare feet, and the morning dew is making my feet feel cold. “You should both eat something before you take off.” 

I realize, now, that Gale will never understand the significance of things like this: riding in a car, or working for the government. To him, perhaps, this has always been a dream. For me, it’s like reliving a nightmare. And I realize, definitively, in that moment, I can never go with him. It was never an option and never will be. 

 

===

 

It is several weeks since Johanna and Gale left. Peeta and I have settled back into our usual routine of eating breakfast and dinner together, and working on the memory book in the evenings, when we feel like it. A few times, he has suggested that we watch television together, that maybe we would be able to catch Gale on his show, but I have avoided it up to this point. 

I only agree to let us watch TV if the show is goofy and meaningless. Lucky for him, there is a large variety of TV shows that have popped up since the end of the war (obviously thanks to Plutarch, who is in charge of all programming for Panem) that satisfies both of our needs. Our favorite show is what they call a game show, where they show pictures of people dressed up in ridiculous outfits, and the players have to determine whether or not it’s a real Capitol fashion or something the TV show made up. It’s somewhat surprising to me that even since the war has ended, the Capitol fashion sense has not gotten any less crazy. I suppose it’s hard to change old habits.

I still haven’t brought up what happened between Gale, Johanna and me. My friendship with Peeta still seems so fleeting, though probably more due in part to me than him. Peeta has been nothing but friendly to me, especially since Gale and Johanna have left and gone back to 2. I feel afraid that if I bring up what happened, he will leave me forever, and I don’t know what I would do if that happened.

I sigh to myself, leaning gently against his broad shoulder as the theme song for Capitol Fashion or Fake? comes blaring through the tinny speakers on my television. The show’s host, a Ceasar Flickerman look-alike called Augustus Smythe, takes the stage. Peeta snorts as Augustus’s rainbow-colored curls shake wildly while he runs around the stage, greeting everyone in the audience. I can’t help but smile as I look up at Peeta, so easily amused by this vapid programming. It occurs to me that maybe he just likes to laugh. We have only known each other personally under the worst of circumstances, but in school, before I really knew him, I would constantly see him surrounded by friends, joking around; a smile on his face more often than not. 

Perhaps it is why it has been easier for him to recover than it’s been for me. It’s true that we both have experienced more than a lifetime’s worth of atrocities and trauma, but I was not the one who was hijacked; he was. Yet here he sits next to me, laughing along to the television, his hand tentatively on my knee. And I realize that he has slowly been working his way up to being friendlier with me, little touches here and there, smiles; a generous hug when he leaves at night. I don’t know how I can tell him about what I’ve done without breaking his heart, ruining everything we have worked so hard to achieve again. I think about what Haymitch said, “Then you … need to decide if telling him is going to make or break that for you. Or him.” I decide I’m still not willing to take that chance. Maybe I will never tell him. If it means that I will be able to keep him forever, it may be worth it. I’m just that selfish, I decide.

 

=== END ===


End file.
